


Tenses

by Lesbianravens



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Like so much, M/M, Modern Era, not a happy ending guys, nothing gets resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8758954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesbianravens/pseuds/Lesbianravens
Summary: Thomas gets visitors, press, friends, family. He stays quiet through the interactions and does not speak out of turn. He barely speaks at all. One person has visited him everyday. Flowers, chocolates, books, anything and more Thomas could want. That one person was James Madison. His...boyfriend. Well,He was.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My friend wanted me to write this. Seriously not a happy ending guys.  
> Sorry about this.

Thomas Jefferson _was_ the Secretary of State. He _was_ one of the most influential people in the White House, and one of the loudest too. He _was_ going to run for president soon once the current one stepped down. Was, was, was. That _was_ a month ago. A lot of things have changed since then.

Hence the _was_.

Now Thomas Jefferson _is_ recovering from an attempted assassination in the hospital. He _is_ not his usual self, instead of loud, boisterous remarks, he _is_ quiet and polite. He _is_ in the hospital due to the severe damage and his memory. He _is_ not what he once was.

Hence the _is_.

Thomas gets visitors, press, friends, family. He stays quiet through the interactions and does not speak out of turn. He barely speaks at all.

One person has visited him everyday. Flowers, chocolates, books, anything and more Thomas could want.

That one person was James Madison. His...boyfriend.

Well,

He _was_.

***3 Months Before***

"Here you go," James murmured, placing the book on the table next to Thomas' bed. "I found it on your bookshelf at...at home."

Thomas didn't say anything, nodding quietly. It's been a month, neither had said much to each other. They sat in mostly silence for hours. Nothing to say. Nothing to do.

Today marked the first month of Thomas staying in the hospital. Every day James visited Thomas in the hospital, bringing him things from their apartment. Maybe to just bring back a smidgen of his memory. All seemed to be in vain, as Thomas neither declined or accelerated his health.

Thomas glanced over at James and blinked slowly. "Why do you come here every day?" He asked quietly.

James looked over and managed a small smile. "Because I'm not giving up on you," he murmured.

Thomas seemed to accept this answer without a fight, looking to the new book. He quietly picked it up, and flipped to the first page.

***2 Months Before***

Absolutely nothing had changed whatsoever. Two months in and absolutely no progress was made. Thomas' calm (read: confused about everything and keeps quiet about everything) demeanor began to worry some people. For the time being, George Washington put Jefferson on paid leave, saying that if he got better, or until it was determined that he wouldn't get better, he would still be considered one of the White House staff. James Madison was taking over his role.

Still, no words were passed between them, except for the occasional pleasantries, greetings, and goodbyes.

James watched Jefferson take a nap, letting his worries float through his brain. Of course he was thankful that Thomas was alive, but like this? It was just horrible. He still had a bandage around his head, covering the tiny wound where the bullet entered. Funny how something so small could have such huge effects.

As soon as Thomas woke up, James gave him his lunch quietly; macaroni and cheese. His favorite. As he ate, Joanne's got out a book, opening to the page he had left off on, reading it quietly.

Thomas asked another question. He didn't ask very many, especially for his condition.

"Are you a nurse?"

That one, innocent question felt like a sucker punch in the gut. James looked up, eyes wide.

"No, I'm not a nurse," he said in a much less steady voice than he'd like.

Thomas accepted the question, continuing to eat his macaroni. James watched over Thomas that night, wondering how much of him the man could remember.

**1 month before***

James Madison was on temporary paid leave as well, to look after Thomas Jefferson. It was obvious with the stress of being Secretary of State and worrying about Thomas had really taken a toll on him. Alexander Hamilton, certified bastard orphan who never took a break a day in his life, talked to Madison about resting for a bit. Washington gave him three weeks to rest and recover, most of which he spent in the hospital. It would be another couple of months of observation before Thomas could be released.

James didn't know how to feel about it.

Thomas began finding his voice about two weeks in of James' constant attention. Most of it was so normal, so obnoxious, so amazingly _Thomas_ that it nearly made James weak in the knees.

The doctors said that it was muscle memory, memory in cells, that his body remembered how it usually acted. His actual memory still seemed to be...unimproved.

James wanted to scream at the doctors. But what had happened to his memory? Would Thomas ever regain it? What comes next?

He never voiced these questions out loud. But he asked one question-only one-to Thomas Jefferson. That one question answered any others he could've possibly thought up.

One day, Thomas was talking animatedly about a book James had brought him, telling him the flaws and plot and the developments the book had, the same words he had used a year ago when he first got the book when they were living together.

In a pause when Thomas had to take a breath, James summoned up the courage to ask Thomas a question that had been bothering him since he was brought into the hospital.

"Thomas, do you remember me?"

A word halfway out of his mouth, Thomas halted and looked to James, who was staring at the floor. James, who visited him every day, who tirelessly spent time with him, cared for him.

"Is this some kind of test? You've visited me for the past two months, you think my amnesia's retrograde now?" Thomas asked carefully.

If you could stare at a floor harder, that's what James did right then.

"From...from before, do you remember me."

A beat of silence. Two. Three. Four. James counted seventeen seconds of silence before Thomas spoke again.

"I'm afraid I don't. Why?"

James closed his eyes, took a deep breath, straightened up, and looked at Thomas. "No reason. Just curious," he said in a level voice.

Thomas watched James before shrugging and going back to his rant. James picked the broken pieces of his heart off the floor so he wouldn't step on it on the way out.

He didn't visit the next day.

***Present***

James has gotten a lot more quiet recently. He only stayed away for one day before going back, claiming illness, a headache, a stomach bug. Lies flit from his mouth like flies, easily accepted by people. In reality, he couldn't get out of bed that day.

James sets Thomas' lunch in front of him, sitting down next to his bed in his usual seat. Thomas only stares at Madison, trying to decipher him like a code.

"Somethin' wrong, James?" He asks, beginning to eat while he watches.

James smiles up at Thomas, a small smile, weak and broken. "I...am going to be fine."

He _was_ fine. He _is_ not. He _will be_...he _will_ always be here. By Thomas Jefferson's side.

In the past, in the present, and in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> Come bother me on tumblr! @the-frenchiest-fries


End file.
